


Dungeons and Peanut Butter-Eating Dragons

by Hexenwerk



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Dragon!Pidge, Elf!Lance, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Gen, Maybe Klance or Hance or Klunk in the future?, Minor god!Hunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-15 23:23:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10559440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hexenwerk/pseuds/Hexenwerk
Summary: "Lance supposed that if he had to say where his problems began, it was in befriending a god. Well, before that, really, stretching back to his childhood, but that was more problems in general and not the specific problem currently swinging a sword at his head."A story in which two goddesses stake a claim on a Champion, and everyone else is pulled into their struggle.





	

Lance supposed that if he had to say where his problems began, it was in befriending a god. Well, before that, really, stretching back to his childhood, but that was more problems in general and not the specific problem currently swinging a sword at his head.

“Damn it, Hunk, this is why I tell you not to drag every stray you find into our home!” Lance yelped as he ducked the sword, the wind ruffling his hair as it barely missed.

“I took you in!” Hunk shouted, banging a spoon against a pot in an unsuccessful attempt to distract the swordsman and just in general adding to the chaos in the single room that was Hunk’s home.

“Yeah, and I’m not a crazy with a sword!” Lance ducked behind the table, the sword coming down onto the table and biting deep into the wood. As the swordsman attempted to pry it free, Hunk swooped in and hoisted the swordsman up and away with a hand beneath each armpit.

“Let me go! Kidnappers! My brother will be looking for me, and you’ll both be dead if I’m hurt even a little!” the swordsman yowled, flailing ineffectually in Hunk’s grip, which was far sturdier than even a man of his build seemed like he should be.

Releasing a sigh of relief, knowing that no mortal man would be able to break out of Hunk’s hold, Lance crawled out from behind the table and rose to his feet, dusting the knees of his pants off.

“Yeesh, no one here is going to hurt you. We _saved_ you from that storm outside, so you’d better show us some gratitude,” Lance huffed as he crossed his arms and squinted at the swordsman. “Humans, really.”

Hunk shook his head with a small smile, “As if you elves are all that different.”

“Enough to know that you’re not the kind of god to hurt mortals without good cause!”

“Wait, a god? You?” Keith twisted around as much as he could to look at Hunk, brows furrowing as he looked for any signifier of godhood on the man. He was ridiculously strong and sturdy, but Keith had figured that he just had some troll or dwarf blood in him.

“The god of the mountain hearth. I’m a minor god, really, only worshiped by mountain-dwelling communities.”

“And anyone who’s ever had any of your baking!” Lance said, eliciting a blush from Hunk.

Hunk, realizing that the swordsman had ceased struggling, set him on his feet and withdrew a couple feet back, allowing him to gain his bearings.

“So, you saved me?” the swordsman asked.

“Yes. What were you doing out here all alone, especially with a storm coming through?” Hunk asked as he removed the sword from his table, frowning at the gash in the wood, but returning the weapon nonetheless to its owner. The swordsman recognized the gesture of good faith for what it was with a bashful smile, sheathing it at his hip.

“I was to rendezvous . . . somewhere near here, I suppose, with my brother, Shiro, and his familiar, Pidge. I’m Keith, by the way.”

“Shiro, Shiro, why does that name sound familiar?” Lance wondered aloud.

“Lance, don’t be rude. Nice to meet you, Keith, I’m Hunk, and this is Lance. Also, Lance, I’ve told you about him before, the Champion of Haggar.”

Keith hissed between his teeth at the mention of Haggar, spitting on the ground.

“Hey! Stop messing up my house, seriously!” Hunk grabbed for a towel hanging on a hook next to the hearth, cleaning up the spit. “I may be a minor god, but this is _my_ abode; Haggar wouldn’t move against me here just because her name was mentioned.”

“Dude, dude, I’ve heard of that dude! He’s supposed to be like, an amazing fighter and wizard!”

“He is,” Keith said with no small amount of pride, then frowned. “He’s going to be looking for me.”

“Do you think he was caught up in the storm?” Lance asked. Hunk was already starting to bustle around the room, gathering up medical supplies and blankets just in case.

“Maybe, but I don’t think Pidge would let him. She’s got a good head on her shoulders. A bit screwy and difficult to pin down, but reliable. At the very least, they found a cave to shelter in.”

“Well, we can go to the nearby town and see if any strangers rolled in recently; this late in the season there aren’t many travelers coming through this way, after all,” Hunk said, hoisting his supplies in a sack on his back. Lance nodded, grabbing a pack leaning against one of the walls and the bow and quiver beside it.

“Let’s go then!” Pushing hard past Keith, Lance flung the door open and stepped out, followed by Keith and Hunk, the former rubbing his arm and glaring at Lance’s back.

———

Was it just him or was it easier to trudge through the snow than before, even disregarding the fact that it wasn’t snowing now? Maybe it was just because his guide knew the best paths in these mountains, but Keith wouldn’t put it past some strange magic on Hunk’s part that was making their trek so much easier. Magic was something that Keith understood, seeing as his older brother was a wizard of great repute, and his own sword was enchanted and capable of channeling what spells he knew in lieu of a wand or staff. But human magic was so much different from that of a god’s; Keith had never knowingly met a god before Hunk, but he could sense the magic that seemed to weave itself intuitively around Hunk, nature working to favor him like a faithful dog. Even being on Hunk’s good side, it was a tad unsettling.

“Gods, Hunk, I have no clue what it is about these mountains that makes you want to live here. There are warmer mountains, you know!” Lance said, huddling in on himself. At the very least, Keith was satisfied that he wasn’t the only one upset with the cold.

“They’re very pretty in the spring and summer when the wildflowers are blooming,” Hunk said, unperturbed by what Keith sensed were typical complaints from Lance. Lance, he was quickly coming to realize, had a big mouth and no restraint in voicing his opinions. If he didn’t like something, everybody would soon know.

“I think you just like it here because this is where your girlfriend lives,” Lance said.

“How many times do I have to tell you? Shay is not my girlfriend, she’s just a rock that I admire very much.”

“I mean, there are prettier girls out there than troll girls, but you do you, dude,” Lance said, grinning as Hunk continued to splutter.

Keith noticed the smoke first.

“The town?” he asked, pointing at the thin columns of smoke winding into the darker clouds above.

“Yep, that’s the town of Mountain Reach,” Hunk said, and as they curved down the path past a large rock face, Keith caught his first glimpses of houses, steep-rooved buildings constructed primarily of wood.

“Only old people and Hunk here, who is actually pretty old, I guess, call it that; these days it’s just Reach, or Last Chance to Turn Back in the winter,” Lance said. Keith hummed noncommittally, though after being caught in that storm he could understand the latter name. Entering into the town proper, Keith noticed that several of the buildings had charming paintings on their sides depicting fairytale scenes. Among them also were depictions of what looked like Hunk, trolls, dwarves, and dragons.

It hadn’t occurred to Keith before, considering that Hunk didn’t look any older than himself or Lance, but Hunk was probably pretty old, wasn’t he? Come to think of it, Lance was probably older than he looked, too, seeing as elves’ lifespans were a few decades or so longer than a typical human’s. He supposed the thought would be more off-putting if he wasn’t familiar with Pidge, whose youthful appearance and behavior belied her centuries of age.

Entering the town proper, the trio was soon beset by a crowd of eager townsfolk, particularly the children who ran at Hunk and tried to clamber onto him. Hunk and Lance indulged them, picking children up and swinging them around a few turns before setting them back down. To his relief, no children approached Keith with the same intent, though a small smile tugged at his lips at the sight of Lance and Hunk playing with the children, joy positively radiating from them. To think, he’d been found and picked up by souls like these instead of beset by mountain bandits, which is what Keith would have expected.

“Hey, you wouldn’t happen to know if anyone has come through here recently, have they? Maybe staying at the tavern overnight?” Hunk asked a couple, who nodded.

“There’s the usual stragglers, you know, including bumfooted Darwin, and the night before last a man and girl came in. They don’t look related, you know? The man looks like your stranger of a friend there, and the girl is fairer with yellow eyes. Not to mention they’ve been out of the town all of the last day after asking all sorts of questions. The immortal thinking of youth,” the husband scoffed.

“As if you weren’t the same way when you were younger. The man was nothing but courteous with our patrons, no trouble, I’ll have you know,” the wife said to Hunk. “You’ll come over, then? Marge would love some help in the kitchen, if you could spare the time.”

“We’re going. They’re definitely Shiro and Pidge,” Keith said. Hunk nodded.

“Sure thing,” he said, and him, Keith, and Lance accompanied the couple to their tavern, shucking off their outer layers at the door and hanging them up on the coat hangers. Spotting a large figure beside a much smaller one seated on a couch facing a fireplace, Keith hurried over there.

“Shiro! Pidge,” he said, placing his hands on the back of the couch and pushing his head between them.

“Keith! We thought you were dead,” the girl said, staring up at him with a smirk.

“We did not, be nice, Pidge,” Shiro said, pretending to swat Pidge upside the head. She rubbed the spot that he had barely touched, pouting anyway.

“I would have been if it wasn’t for Hunk and Lance,” Keith said, waving the two over.

“Woah, you actually made friends? You? Shiro, are you sure that this is actually Keith?” Pidge asked, pushing her face closer to Keith and sniffing, before recoiling back with a grimace. “That body odor is definitely Keith.”

Lance was grinning broadly, mimicking Pidge as he pretending to sniff Keith before dramatically leaning away and pinching his nose. In all honesty, Keith didn’t smell that strongly to him; sure, a little whiff of body odor, but that was mixed with the stronger smell of leather and smoke that was actually kind of nice.

“I can’t thank you enough for helping Keith. I’m Shiro, and this is my familiar, Pidge.” Shiro stood up and turned around to face his brother’s new friends properly, inclining his head in gratitude.

“Hunk,” Hunk said, shaking Shiro’s hand, followed by Lance doing the same.

“Wait, familiar? You have a human as your familiar?” Lance dodged Hunk’s hand as it attempted to clap over his mouth. "Shouldn’t you have like, a cat? Ooh, or maybe a griffon or something! I could see a great wizard like you having a griffon for a familiar.”

“Lance, she’s not human,” Hunk said in warning, his suspicions confirmed by the look on Shiro and Keith’s faces.

“Really? She looks pretty human-shaped to me. Maybe her ears are kinda pointy? Not elf ears, though,” Lance tugged on one of his own for emphasis, “a half elf?”

Pidge was smiling, but it was more like a baring of teeth. Teeth that were unusually sharp, now that Lance could see them properly.

“Pidge is a dragon. I think she’d be miffed if I chose a griffon over her,” Shiro said, placing a hand on Pidge’s shoulder. Pidge let her expression relax.

“I don’t get it; if she’s a dragon, then why is she so tiny and human-shaped? Shouldn’t dragons be, y’know, big?” Lance narrowed his eyes at Pidge, hesitantly reaching out to poke her with a single finger.

“Being big enough to eat people is cool and all, but claws really leave a lot to be desired when working with tools. You humanoids with your opposable thumbs don’t know how good you have it.” Pidge waggled her thumbs for emphasis. "That being said, I could always change back into my true form and make a snack of you.”

Ignoring the way Lance cringed and began to inch back, taking partial shelter behind Hunk, whose complexion had taken on a green undertone, Pidge continued, “Actually, you look a bit too stringy to be appetizing. Maybe with some peanut butter.”

“I thought the saying was that we taste better with ketchup?”

“I only like ketchup on my fries, thank you very much,” Pidge said with a disdainful sniff.

Shiro sighed, rubbing at his temples.

“Thank you, Pidge, for that illuminating insight into maneating habits. Please, I don’t need to hear anymore, and I don’t think Hunk does either,” Shiro said. “Well, thank you so much again for your aid, if there’s any way that we can repay you in the future, don’t hesi–“

A distant explosion followed by screams rattled the windows. The tavern patrons rushed to the windows facing the street to get a better look at what was going on, just to be herded back as several armored men entered the establishment and fanned out.

“Attention, citizens and vagabonds, this town is now occupied by Galra forces until you relinquish the fugitive harbored here. Resistance will be met with extreme prejudice,” declared the man in the most elaborate armor.

**Author's Note:**

> This is like, the first actual fanfic that I've written in years, feedback is appreciated.


End file.
